


We Lived Happily During the War

by orpheus_under_starlight



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Healing, Multi, Psychological Trauma, Slice of Life, essentially Sidequests: The Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24664735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheus_under_starlight/pseuds/orpheus_under_starlight
Summary: While the tensions between AVALANCHE and ShinRa grow, Zack creates a new normal. One year, spent in the slums, doing exactly what he said he'd do: mercenary work, with a friend by his side.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	We Lived Happily During the War

_And when they bombed other people’s houses, we_

_protested_   
_but not enough, we opposed them but not_

_enough. I was_   
_in my bed, around my bed America_

_was falling; invisible house by invisible house by invisible house._

_I took a chair outside and watched the sun._

_In the sixth month_   
_of a disastrous reign in the house of money,_

_in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money,_   
_our great country of money, we (forgive us)_

_lived happily during the war._

_-Ilya Kaminsky, “We Lived Happily During the War”_

-

Zack knows well enough what a Company cover-up looks like.

When the dust clears, when he’s the last one left standing, the chopper that starts up behind the nearby cliffs isn’t all that startling. What  _ is _ shocking is that not a single bullet gets fired at him, despite him standing in plain sight. Instead—

“Well, partner, I think we’ve concluded our investigation!” Reno, hanging half out the door with a walkie-talkie dangling from his free hand, yells back inside to Rude. “The escaped research specimens—who knew they were a pair of Midgar Zoloms? Fuckin’ Hojo. We’ve got better things to do than try to requisition his lab rats for him—ah,  _ fuck!” _

It’s a pretty impressive fumble, if Zack does say so himself. Reno’s hooked his leg around the inside of the chopper, but the dangling swing he executes as he apparently loses his balance manages to send the walkie-talkie skidding directly into Zack’s boots. 

“Well, shit. No getting that back from a Zolom. Tseng’s just gonna have to have a word with me in person!” Reno, still yelling, swings himself back up into the chopper. The door slides shut behind him unceremoniously, and the chopper hangs in the air for a moment longer, as if Rude is watching.

“Thanks, buddy,” Zack mutters, bending to pick the walkie-talkie up. Good thing he’s done it, too, since it crackles to life practically as soon as his fingers touch it.

_ “Reno, report in,” _ Tseng’s voice orders. He sounds calm and implacable, sure, but Zack can hear the discomfit in his voice that signals what counts as anxiety for the man.

It’s a toss-up as to what’s going to happen if he answers. He sure as hell isn’t going back on the ShinRa payroll—but he knows the Turks, and knows that while their loyalties are to the Company first and foremost, ever since his escape they’ve made as many allowances for him as they could. Up to and including this last little gift, a fine piece of theater. Genesis himself might’ve loved it.

So Zack makes a choice. He raises the walkie-talkie to his lips and answers. “Sorry to disappoint.”

_ “Ah, Reno. No leads?” _

...Huh. “The specimens were a pair of escaped Midgar Zoloms, _ despite _ what our intel said. They took out an entire squadron of troopers—no way we could get them on our own with the spells they were slinging. Better to send a SOLDIER First or three into the marshes, man."

_ "I'll take that under due advisement." _ Tseng sounds amused, and if the whole world hadn't gone straight to hell, Zack might've joked around a little longer.  _ "At any rate, once you're back in Midgar, I have another assignment for you. You'll be back on the Ancient's protection detail when you've had a chance to rest and write up your report. Do remember that everything you saw, despite it amounting to little more than a Midgar Zolom, is to be kept strictly to yourself and Rude." _

"Don't need to remind  _ me, _ boss-man. But you might want to remind Elena." Zack's lips twist, remembering his short encounter with her in Andeoheim. That had been weeks or months ago (how long he isn't quite sure) and he's pretty sure he can still feel the weight of that kick she'd delivered to his shins while trying to apprehend him.

Tseng is silent for a moment.  _ "She'll learn. Ah. One other thing." _

Zack tenses.  _ Here it is. _

_ "...That other matter. The one I asked you to look into while hunting the specimens. The top brass's priorities have changed." _

"Yeah?"

_ "Indeed. We will no longer be investigating the case of First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair or his companion's disappearance. There is no need to waste further resources on a dead man. All records of his existence within ShinRa have been erased, and we are to prioritize monitoring the efforts of the extremist group AVALANCHE. Any threat to our path to the Promised Land is a threat to the future peace and prosperity of every person in Gaia." _

"...Holy  _ shit," _ Zack says, forgetting, for a moment, who he is and what has happened. "You're kidding me."

_ "I can assure you that I do not kid," _ Tseng replies.

"Right, I forgot. Listen--I'll be back soon. Tell my favorite chick I'm on my way." It sorta kills him to talk like Reno, even if this conversation is absurd and farcical enough already. 

He can hear Tseng's raised brow through the tinny radio.  _ "We'll see, Reno. Tseng, over and out." _

With that, the walkie-talkie falls silent.

Then it beeps.

Zack's eyes widen as it heats up in his hand and the beeping increases rapidly. With a muffled curse he chucks it as far as he can out into the wastes--which, if he's being humble, is a fair ways away--and watches as it starts glowing a dangerous red, then explodes. Only after the threat removes itself does he realize how fast he's breathing. How  _ tired _ he is. How strung out his nerves are. That the bodies all around him will soon begin to smell.

And how behind him, Cloud has begun to move.

He spins around. His spiky-haired friend is splayed out on the ground, as if he'd managed to crawl all the way over here and lost the strength, and  _ his eyes are open. _ Zack sheathes the Buster Sword and stumbles his way over to Cloud, falling to his knees in the dirt right next to him. "Cloud. Hey, Cloud. Can you hear me?"

Blue meets blue, and Zack draws in a breath at the bright ring of mako surrounding his friend's irises. He's got a  _ bad _ case--but, Zack reminds himself, the fact that he's  _ awake _ and  _ conscious _ at all is a good sign. Cloud makes a vague noise that he probably means to be some kind of communication. 

Alright. Alright. He'll take what he can get.

"We're almost home free," Zack tells him, forcing his protesting body to kneel and maneuver Cloud onto his back. "We're aiming for Sector Five, bud. I'm taking you to meet Aerith and Elmyra. Elmyra's got a spare room--she won't turn away anyone who's injured. You'll get to sleep in a bed for a change. Won't that be great?"

Cloud's head lolls against Zack's neck. "Hueuugah," he slurs.

"Almost there." The words are for him as much as they're for Cloud.

He just hopes Aerith will be happy to see him.

-

Aerith knows that something's different as soon as she wakes up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and shivers at the morning chill. A quick glance out the window shows that the Sector 5 sun lamp hasn't been turned on at all yet--and the steel sky of the plate is still in place, contrary to her dream, where a massive meteor had torn it all to shreds before the Planet surged up to restore itself.

She stumbles down the staircase with her handmade shawl pulled tight about her shoulders. Mom looks up from her coffee, brows raising. "You're up early, love."

"I know," Aerith responds, going to her and slipping onto her lap with a sleepy yawn. Mom's arms settle around her with a loving curl, and Aerith rests her head on her chest. "I had a dream."

Mom has never liked it when she talks about these things. She can feel the subtle tension in her arms, the swallow before she forcibly makes her voice light. "Oh?"

With a small smile, she closes her eyes. "...Yeah. But it was just a dream, you know. No matter what happens, as long as we have each other, we'll get through it."

"...Aerith." 

"Anyway..." She pushes up gently, away from her mother, and brushes her bangs away from her face. "I've got to be at the church early today. I have a feeling that the flowers need me."

"Be careful," Mom says, not looking particularly happy.

Aerith gives her a winning smile. "I always am."

"That's what worries me."

But she pretends not to hear, because she's already dashing up the stairs to get ready for the day.

_ It's up to you now to make your dreams come true,  _ an older version of herself--not  _ much _ older, but somehow she'd known--had said to her.  _ You can feel it, can't you? Like there was a one-way track, and you and I had no way of getting off. It's why I planned anyways, despite knowing. But you have to remember. The future... it isn't set in stone. Destiny can be changed now.  _

_ For the better or the worse. _

_ You'd better go. Someone you love is waiting. _

It doesn't take her long to fix her hair and slip into the work dress that's served her so well over the last four years. It takes even less to dash out the door with a "Bye, Mom!" and a jaunty wave before Mom can squirrel a curfew out of her; when Tseng falls into easy step beside her just as she passes the old vacant lot by her house, she's not as surprised as she'd like to be.

"On your way to the Church?" Tseng asks companionably.

Aerith frowns and walks a little faster. "...Sure am."

"I'll accompany you. I find the mornings there to be quite peaceful." 

"Really?" she asks, keeping the bit of desperation she feels from leaking into her voice. "Doesn't the Head of the Turks have something better to do than follow me around all day?"

Tseng smiles. Too bad for him--she can read the chagrin in his eyes. So he  _ would _ like to be doing something else. "As you know, ShinRa is invested in keeping its assets in good health."

"I can take care of myself, you know."

He only nods. "I know."

Aerith sighs.

-

The church is as peaceful as ever when she gets to it thirty minutes later. Usually it would take her longer, stopping in various places along the way to help with one problem or another, but with Tseng keeping her company the residents of Sector Five’s slums have kept their distance. Aerith doesn’t mind. Better for them to keep themselves safe—if they don’t have families to look after, they do have the Leaf House. 

Still. While Tseng takes a seat in one of the pews and busies himself with whatever business a Turk gets up to on his phone, Aerith takes to the flowers. People know to leave well enough alone after she gave the first few thugs to come and try things a sound beating, but today she can see that a few flowers have been carefully removed from the edges. In the far corner of the light, a piece of paper flips in the wind.

Aerith lifts it up and finds it to be an envelope containing five hundred gil and a familiar calling card.  _ The Angel of the Slums thanks you for bringing hope to those around you... and for the flowers. _

A small smile finds its way onto her face. Mirielle, kind as always. That many flowers wouldn’t total up to five hundred gil.

That’s when she hears footsteps. They echo in the quiet of the church, with a strange dragging sound behind them, and Aerith turns—and stops.

“Zack...?” she breathes.

Zack—her Zack—is standing in the doorway with an unconscious blond man slung over his back. His hair’s a mess, his eyes are wild, and he looks like he hasn’t seen a shower in a month. If he gets closer, she thinks he might smell like it, too. “Aerith.”

“Is it really you?”

“It’s me,” he confirms, even though the way the Planet has suddenly surged into song as good as confirmed it for her. “I came back. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

Aerith only remembers Tseng when he coughs and steps into the aisle. She tenses, wondering if she’s going to have to try to take him on to save the man she hasn’t seen in four years, but Tseng just looks slowly from one to the other. “...Zack. I’m glad to see you with my own eyes, alive and well.”

Zack is tense, too, but he nods slowly. “Glad to see you’re still kicking after everything, Tseng.”

“This is the only time I’ll be able to contact you in person as a neutral party. Don’t count on me as an ally after this,” he informs him without further preamble, producing a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “This is for you. A friend wanted it delivered.”

“For me, huh. Mind leaving that on the pew?” Zack says, and Aerith’s heart quietly breaks for the tired gravel in his voice. He looks like he’s running on empty.

Tseng inclines his head gracefully. “Of course. And I’ll be on my way shortly—Reno is on protection detail next. You’ll want to be somewhere safe before then.”

“How long do we have?” Aerith asks, and Tseng gives her a long, searching look. “Please, Tseng.”

“...Four hours. I’ll leave out the front,” he says to Zack. As if she doesn’t understand exactly what’s going on here! He’s silent for a long moment. Then—“For what it’s worth, Zack, I am truly glad to see you alive.”

Zack’s smile is more like a grimacing snarl. “Yeah, alright.”

Tseng leaves without further discussion, and Aerith waits until his footsteps have faded away to rush over to Zack and the boy who’s clearly his friend, judging by the way he kept him out of Tseng’s direct line of sight the whole exchange. “Zack--honestly, you reek. When was the last time you took a bath, huh, mister?"

"Way too long ago," he says, rueful. "Aerith, listen... I wanted to see you again. I got your letters. It took me four years, but I got them. And if you can't--"

"That's enough of that," she says as firmly as she can. Seizing on his free hand, she tugs him further into the church; he sits his friend down on the front pew and kneels down in front of her with an absolutely pathetic look on his face. She brushes his unruly, limp hair back. "Zack, I don't care right now. You came back to me, you need a shower, and your friend--"

"Cloud," Zack supplies at her hesitation.

"Cloud." It feels... right, somehow. She nods. "Your friend looks like he needs a shower and a bed. We can talk about that later, once you're not dead on your feet. What's that note Tseng gave you?"

He sits back, unfolds it, then stares at it. "Huh."

She leans over him to read it.  _ Leave through the back and lay low as long as you can.  _

Classic Tseng, never saying what he really wants to say. "Well, you heard him, I guess. C'mon. Up for one last trek?"

"You know it, babe," he says, and although his smile and eyes are both weary, it's the first spark of genuine brightness she's seen in him since he's set foot in the church again. Aerith smiles and offers him her hand. With blank surprise and then a laugh, he takes it and heaves himself to his feet. "Gotten stronger since I left, huh?"

"You know it," she echoes, cheeky, and reaches out to lace his fingers with hers.

There's so much to work on between them. She knows the lingering hurt isn't about to go away, and there's no telling how he's changed--where he's been or what he's seen--except through talking to him. But this is  _ Zack, _ and something in her could stand at the top of the ShinRa building and scream with all the ferocious joy she has that someone  _ came back for her. _ For the first time in her life, someone came back.

-

Zack sleeps for seventy-two hours, and in that time, Aerith receives no less than three visits from friends old and new--all furtive, all tentative, as if drawn to her house with no real clue as to why. First it's Zack's friend Kunsel, who seems to know everything about everyone except her, and he leaves Zack a gift: Materia and a Ribbon, for help starting a new life. Then it's Oates, who'd seen her supporting Zack and Cloud through the Sector Five slums and had done what little he could to help her out, rallying the kids to try and carry Zack's sword--for completely altruistic motives, clearly.

Somewhere in the middle of that, in the dead of night, she hears the wind rustling in the garden and whistling through the open window, which is strange, because she doesn't remember opening the window in the first place. She only finds a single black feather when she goes to shut it. But that single feather leaves her with the impression of something (or someone) very powerful, and very tied to the Planet. Zack, sound asleep on her bed after sneaking in an hour ago, hasn't stirred even a little bit.

Aerith shuts the window and goes back to bed. 

On the morning of the third day, an unfamiliar girl with wine-red eyes and a fighter's physique is standing uncertainly at her door, and Aerith feels dizzy at the rush of familiarity that runs through her. Another friend, then. "Good morning."

"Good morning," the girl says, and her voice is soft. "I'm sorry to bother you so early. Um... my name is Tifa. I run a bar over in Sector Seven... A... friend, I suppose, told me that a man with blond hair is staying here?"

"Oh? Which friend?" she asks. No one has come looking for Cloud, and from the sound of things after Zack had told her his story, she hadn't been expecting anyone.

Tifa bites her lip. "I'm not sure if you've met him. His name is Chadley--he lives in the area. He saw you and a few others bringing a blond-haired man in..."

"Ah! That makes sense." Chadley's a Materia researching fiend, but even he hadn't been able to make sense of her useless Materia. Aerith smiles as gently as she can, because Tifa looks about ready to bite through her own lip out of anxiety. "You're right about that. There is a boy staying here. But... I should warn you... he was hit by a severe case of mako poisoning. He's recovering, but--"

"That's okay. Please. Can I see him?"

Aerith nods, slowly, and reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Sure, I'll take you to him. But I think you should breathe first."

A strange look crosses Tifa's face, then, discomfort crossed with chagrin, and with trembling fingers clenched into fists, she forces herself to take five slow, even breaths. Once she does, Aerith drops her hand, and Tifa smiles at her. "...Okay. I'm ready. Thank you, uh..."

"My name's Aerith," she provides, leading Tifa inside. "So, you run a bar? What's it like?"

"Well..."

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises about update times, though I wish I could! This fic's focus is day-to-day life in the slums, and is intended to function as a character-and-relationship study.


End file.
